


Crossing a Bridge

by Historical_Fangirl



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Forever (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bittersweet Ending, Crossover, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Historical, Historical References, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, Mystery, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Historical_Fangirl/pseuds/Historical_Fangirl
Summary: Five times Henry Morgan and Anya met each other through history, and one time they almost met.
Relationships: Abigail Morgan/Henry Morgan, Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! It's been a while since I posted the ending to my last story, but since all this quarantining stuff happened I have had a lot more time on my hands to revisit and rewatch old favorites. Two of those are Anastasia (the Broadway musical version) and, of course, Forever. As a result, I realized that according to the flashback parts of the episode where Henry and Jo solve the supposed murder of a ballerina (episode 20), Henry was living in Paris right around the time Anastasia takes place (also in Paris). And thus, this little crossover was born.

_Paris_

_1927_

The Alexander Bridge was by far the most extravagantly beautiful bridge Anya had ever seen. The majestic stonework and gold detailing made her feel both awed and incredibly insignificant. Was this her grandfather’s bridge? Or was she truly just a poor street sweeper with no family to speak of?

So lost in her thoughts was she that Anya didn’t realize how late it had gotten until a nearby clock chimed the hour, 9 o’clock. The sun had set a couple of hours ago, leaving only a faint orange glow lingering in the sky. She had better get back to the hotel.

After a brief consultation of her guidebook, Anya determined that the quickest way to the hotel she, Dmitry, and Vlad were staying at was to cut through a nearby park, then walk along the main road. Simple enough, and she had a good sense of direction. She wouldn’t get lost.

What Anya had not counted on, however, was that with nightfall came dangers which were largely invisible in the daytime. The cobblestone streets of Paris were much more treacherous in the dark, and now that she had traded her sturdy old boots for a pair of fashionable heels Anya felt even more unsteady on her feet. Added to that, the streets she found herself on were lined with clubs and bars from which drunken men eyed her in a way that made her quicken her pace.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a man appeared beside her and grabbed her arm. Anya squeaked in both surprise and terror and tried to yank her arm out of his hand, but he held it firmly.

“Keep walking,” he hissed as they continued down the street. “Act as if you know me. I’ll explain everything in a minute.”

Anya was still terrified, but the man’s grip was lessening with every step they took and so she decided to play along. When they reached the top of the street he turned them to the left, and then finally let go of her.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Miss, but a man was following you. It seemed better to get you out of there as quickly as possible,” he explained.

Anya’s heartbeat slowed slightly as she studied her rescuer. He looked to be 10 or so years older than her, with dark brown hair combed back neatly. He was dressed smartly in a suit, and in one of his hands, he carried a small black bag that looked to be of the medical variety. His eyes were kind.

“Thank you, sir,” Anya said, nodding at him politely. They stared at each other for another minute, before she impulsively stuck out her hand. “My name is Anya.”

“Henry Morgan,” he replied, giving her hand a firm shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Anya replied, frowning slightly as she tried to get a better read on him. He spoke French well, almost as well as she did, but there was a hint of an accent that she couldn’t quite place.

Henry must not have liked the way Anya was studying him, because he abruptly ended the conversation. “Well then. If you’re alright, I should be going.”

“Oh! Yes.” Anya nodded in understanding. “Thank you. Again.” She flashed him a nervous smile.

“Of course. Have a pleasant rest of your evening,” Henry said. Then, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows of Paris once again.

Anya shivered a little as a cool breeze ruffled her skirt, and she set off once again for the hotel at a brisk pace. While she was grateful to have been rescued by a kind stranger and not someone with more nefarious intentions, she couldn’t ignore the lingering feeling that something about that man had been off. She just wasn’t quite sure what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Apologies for my brief unintended hiatus. You'd think that being in quarantine would give you more free time, not less, but alas that is not always the case. I do want to finish this story, though, so here is the next chapter. I'm not sure how I feel about it, to be honest, but I've been working on it for months and I think it's finally time to let it see the light of day and move on. I hope everyone enjoys it!

_London_

_1930_

Henry smiled to himself as he gazed up at Big Ben. Although he hadn’t been sure that coming back to England after living in the United States and France for years was the right move, a part of him had missed his home and he was glad to be back.

After standing and admiring the feat of modern engineering before him, Henry made his way back to the small office he had set up just a few blocks away. His private practice was slowly starting to pick up, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss any patients.

The office was surprisingly quiet, and Henry spent his unexpected free time going through some old paperwork which had been neglected when he moved. Afternoon quickly turned into evening once Henry had lost himself in his work, and it was only when the street lamps outside were lit that he realized how late it was. As he prepared to return to his flat, however, a frantic knock sounded at his door. When he answered it, Henry was shocked to see-

“Anya? Anya from Paris?”

Anya, for her part, looked shocked to see him as well. “Henry Morgan? I didn’t- someone told me that you were a good doctor, so…”

“Please, come in,” Henry said, stepping aside to allow her to enter, but Anya shook her head. Henry grew concerned at this. “What’s wrong?”

“My husband, Dmitry is his name, he…” Anya paused and took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. “He fell and hurt his leg at work earlier today, and he said he’d be alright, but now it’s swollen and he can’t walk. We need a doctor, so I came here and…” Anya trailed off, feeling slightly winded after her rushed explanation.

Henry had already grabbed his coat and medical bag before Anya was even finished explaining, and now he took his hat from the hatstand next to the door. “Lead the way.”

~

Anya and Dmitry’s apartment was tiny and sparsely furnished, which Henry hadn’t been expecting. The woman he had met in Paris seemed to have a mysterious glamor about her which didn’t match with the woman now living in a tiny flat in London with her husband. But Henry quickly put aside these thoughts when he saw Dmitry lying on their sofa with his leg outstretched, his eyes shut tight against the pain he was clearly feeling.

“How did he hurt his leg?” Henry asked, setting his medical bag down on a nearby table and rifling through it.

“Work,” Dmitry answered in heavily accented English before Anya had a chance to speak. Then he looked over at Anya and said something very fast in what sounded to Henry like Russian. He watched as Anya and Dmitry conversed for a minute, feeling like a bit of an idiot for not realizing a woman named Anya was from Russia. In his defense, however, she had spoken French flawlessly.

Dmitry finally looked over at Henry, looking him up and down before explaining more. “I work down at docks. I fell and landed wrong, and now I can’t walk because it hurts too much.” He stopped there, eyeing Henry’s medical bag warily.

Henry smiled reassuringly at Dmitry. “May I examine your leg?”

Dmitry nodded, hissing in pain when Henry touched his leg. Anya hurried to his side and took his hand, murmuring soft words of comfort. Henry grimaced apologetically and did his best to keep his examination as quick and painless as possible.

“Well? What’s wrong?” Anya asked when Henry stepped away from Dmitry after a few minutes.

“A slightly fractured femur, I believe. Not bad enough that I need to set the bone, but you still need to stay off of your leg for at least two weeks,” Henry replied.

Dmitry looked murderous. “I cannot just-”

“Thank you, Doctor Morgan,” Anya cut in. “He will do as you say.”

Henry looked back and forth between them. They certainly didn’t seem like a natural pair, but there was an obvious love between them that made it clear why they were together. He smiled. “Good. I’ll be back in a week to check on him. In the meantime, put plenty of ice on it and take Aspirin for the pain. If the pain suddenly gets very bad or the swelling doesn’t go down, though, I can usually be found at my office.”

~

Henry did indeed come back one week later, and by then Anya was about ready to murder Dmitry. She had had a hell of a time convincing him to stay home from work and rest and had even gone so far as to ask Mrs. Klein from across the hall to keep an eye out in case Dmitry decided to make a run for it while she was at work. It definitely wasn’t beneath him to attempt something as stupid as that.

Thankfully, though, the amount of pain Dmitry was in kept him in bed, just as Henry had ordered. His leg was healing nicely by the time Henry came back to their flat, something everyone was pleased about and grateful for.

“I don’t think I’ll need to come back. Dmitry should be up on his feet in about a week or week and a half,” Henry remarked as he packed up his supplies.

“Thank you for everything, Doctor Morgan,” Anya said gratefully. “I am very glad to have met you again. I didn’t think I would see you again after Paris.”

“Yes,” Henry chuckled softly. “The universe has a funny way of bringing people together.”

“That is definitely true.”

“Well then.” Henry straightened up, bag in hand. “I don’t expect you’ll need me again any time soon, but who knows. Perhaps the universe will bring us together again soon.”

“Perhaps,” Anya agreed. “But perhaps not. Dmitry and I are moving to America in a few months, just as soon as we save enough for the trip. I believe there will be more opportunities there.”

“Ah, I see. Perhaps not, then.” Henry smiled softly at her, then reached out his hand for her to shake. “Goodbye, Anya.”

Anya returned his handshake firmly. “Goodbye, Henry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos on this story so far, and please don't hesitate to do the same for this chapter. Let me know what you think of this story so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been quite a while since I last updated this! I offer sincere apologies for that, unfortunately I hit a major writer's block with this story after the second chapter. Something eventually clicked into place, though, and thankfully I was able to pick this back up. I will finish this story!
> 
> Anyway, without further delay, here is the long-awaited third chapter.

_ New York City _

_ 1948 _

The park wasn’t too crowded, surprising for a warm Sunday afternoon in May. Only a few other children were running around, their parents looking on from a distance. It made Henry feel much more relaxed- he could watch Abraham play without worrying about him getting lost in the crowd. He was small for a three-year-old and had a worrying habit of getting distracted and wandering off when Henry and Abigail weren’t looking.

It was just Henry today, though- Abigail was back at the small apartment the three of them shared, cooking Sunday dinner. Henry had been chasing Abe around the apartment in a game of tag, and when their shared antics caused Abigail to almost drop an expensive glass dish her mother had given her when she and Henry had gotten married, she had banished both of them to the park down the street.

“Go on, run around outside. At least I know you won’t break anything out there.” Then, as if realizing what she’d just said, she called after them, “That’s not a challenge!”

Currently, Abe was engaged in pulling up clumps of grass and throwing them at another boy who looked to be about the same age as him. The boy, for his part, was doing the same as Abe, and the whole thing appeared to be in the spirit of fun. That is, it was until Abe decided to make things more interesting by throwing a handful of pebbles at his partner. 

The other boy blinked in surprise when the rocks hit his face, looking as if he was trying to decide what to do. After a long pause, he sat squarely on the ground and proceeded to burst into tears.

The cries caused Henry to look over. He was now fully aware of the situation in front of him whereas before he had been only half-watching, a mistake which he was now kicking himself for. He ran over to them, reaching the scene at the same time as an older woman who he presumed was either the other child’s mother or grandmother.

“Abraham Morgan! What do you think you’re doing?”

Abe didn’t respond, he simply looked up at Henry with quivering lips and eyes full of unshed tears. Henry sighed in exasperation.  _ I look away for one minute… _

Turning to the other woman, who was trying to console the boy now clinging to her skirts, he offered up his most sheepish expression.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am. I should have been paying more attention.”

“It’s alright. It’s not your fault…” The woman trailed off as she straightened up to look Henry in the eye, and he stiffened.

“Henry Morgan.”

“Anya.”

The passage of time had streaked her reddish-brown hair with gray, and her face seemed more tired than when he had last seen her, but there could be no mistake. This was the same woman he had known in Paris, and then again in London.

“You look… well.” Anya’s expression had gone from one of disbelief to one of passive acceptance, for which Henry was grateful. Anya was smart, so she must know something was amiss, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to find out what, exactly, or make a scene. Henry gave a silent prayer of thanks for that.

“Yes… thank you.” Henry cleared his throat awkwardly. “You do as well.”

The other boy suddenly peeked out from behind Anya, and Henry remembered why he was here in the first place. He tried to smile. “And who is this?”

“This is my son, Alexei,” Anya replied. Her gaze traveled over to Abe. “I take it that is yours?”

“Oh, um, yes.” Henry gently took Abe’s hand and led him forward. “Abraham, meet Anya.” He chuckled softly. “And I think you already know Alexei.”

Neither Abraham nor Alexei said anything, both too shy to do anything other than hiding behind their parent’s legs.

“Well. No harm done,” Anya said after another moment. “But I had better get Alexei home to Dmitry.”

“Yes, we’d better get home as well.” Against his better judgment, Henry decided to at least attempt to be friendly. He did know Anya, after all. Somewhat. “How is Dmitry?”

“Oh, he’s just fine. He works in construction now.” Anya smiled at Henry. “And you are married, I see,” She gestured to the ring on his finger as she spoke.

“Yes. Abigail.” Henry reached down to ruffle Abe’s hair. “Abraham is our adopted son.”

Anya’s smile grew wider when she heard that. “Dmitry and I adopted Alexei as well. Several years ago now.” Alexei looked up at her trustingly, and Anya rested her hand on his head.

“That’s wonderful.” Henry’s voice was sincere. “Perhaps-” he was cut off abruptly when Abe started tugging at his sleeve.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Just one more moment, alright?” Henry asked. When Abe nodded, he kissed the top of his head, then turned back to Anya. “I suppose I’d better get this one home.”

“Of course.” Anya nodded politely and picked up Alexei as she spoke. “It was nice seeing you, Henry. Until we meet again.”

“Likewise,” Henry said. He watched as Anya turned and began to walk towards the entrance to the park, then suddenly paused and looked back at him. Her face was a mess of emotions, and Henry felt his heart skip a beat, but she shook her head and continued on her way without further comment. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Daddy? Can we go home now?”

Henry looked down at Abe, trying to stop the instant grin that seemed to appear whenever he looked at his son. He hoisted him up onto his shoulders with an exaggerated grunt, and Abe giggled.

“We’re going to discuss your behavior on the way home, Abraham.” Henry’s voice was stern, but loving all the same.

“Okay,” Abe replied. He didn’t seem too concerned.

“Oh, and Abe?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell your mother about this.”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anya would be 48 and Dmitry would be 50 in 1948. Abe, as stated, would have been 3, and it goes without saying that Henry would have been his usual 35.
> 
> This chapter does still feel a bit clunky to me, but I do like it quite a bit and so here we are. I hope that everyone else liked it! Feel free to let me know what you thought, constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't bore you all with apologies for the length of time in between the publication of new chapters of this story, I will simply say that I'm still excited about writing this and I hope you enjoy what I've come up with here.

_ New York City _

_ 1966 _

A cool fall breeze wove its way around Henry as he stood at the bus stop, making him shiver and tug his coat up higher around his neck. He had been waiting for almost an hour now, but he would continue to stand there for as long as it took the bus to arrive. Abe was on it, coming home after a year away, and that was all that mattered to him.

A few minutes passed, and Henry was starting to seriously consider stepping into the cafe across the street to warm up, when he heard the sound of heels clicking on the pavement, drawing closer and closer. He glanced to his left and saw an older woman approaching, her silver hair sculpted into a more conservative version of the latest fashion, and her posture almost regal. He smiled politely at her as she came to stand beside him, even as alarm bells rang deep in his mind at how familiar she looked.

The woman didn’t acknowledge Henry at first, seeming content with just waiting beside him (likely expecting someone who was on the same bus as Abe). Henry pushed the fight-or-flight response that had the annoying habit of springing up whenever he vaguely recognized anyone away. Perhaps he had met her before, but it could have been recently. He had no reason to worry.

Suddenly, the woman spoke. “How many times is this now? Five?”

_ Anya _ Henry’s brain supplied him, and his heartbeat quickened. He fought to keep his voice even as he answered, “Four, I believe.”

“Four, that’s right.” Anya’s lips turned upward into an amused smile as she looked over at him. “I suppose this happens to you all the time.”

“Not as often as you might think,” Henry said. “I try to avoid it.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“Are… are you here to meet someone?” Henry asked, unsure why he was prolonging a potentially dangerous conversation but somehow unable to stop himself.

“My son,” Anya replied. “I don’t suppose you remember him. Alexei?”

“Ah, of course.”

“And you are here for Abraham?”

“That’s right.” Henry looked at her curiously. “I’m surprised you remembered his name.”

Another smile slid onto Anya’s face, this one altogether mysterious. “I make it a habit to remember things,” she said cryptically.

Henry could think of no proper response to that, so he simply nodded and returned his attention to waiting for the bus (which was now a full hour late).

“Your wife… Abigail?”

Henry was startled by Anya’s sudden question, but he nodded all the same. “Yes.”

“Where is she?”

“At home,” Henry explained, smiling to think of the state he had left her in. “She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for Abe’s homecoming.”

Anya looked a bit wistful. “Of course. I understand.”

Henry hesitated a moment before asking the question which naturally seemed to come next. “And you and Dmitry…?”

“We’re still married,” Anya said, though there was an unmistakable tightness in her voice. “He’s at home. He hasn’t… been well lately.”

“I’m sorry.” Henry’s voice was heavy with sincerity. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Thank you, but I believe once is enough,” Anya said, her tone lighthearted but her eyes looking a bit dimmer.

The sound of a vehicle approaching cut off any further conversation, and Henry straightened up as the bus rounded the corner and came into view. He could see Abe through one of the windows at the front, and he grinned widely and raised his hand in greeting.

“I would say that I don’t believe we’ll meet again, but life seems to have other plans for us,” Anya commented as the bus rolled to a halt. “You had better not leave it too long, though, or else I might not make it.”

Henry chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

People had already started filing off the bus when a thought occurred to Henry, and he turned to Anya. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“That you’re immortal? No.” Anya raised her eyebrows amusedly. “People would believe me if I told them about you as much as they would believe me if I told them I was the Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov.”

Something about the way Anya spoke made Henry think that she wasn’t being hyperbolic, but he didn’t have time to ponder it further as Abe and then Alexei dismounted from the bus, throwing both him and Anya into a frenzy of emotion. It was only later, when he had a minute to himself, that Henry remembered the media circus which had happened in Paris shortly after he had first met Anya.

Everyone had been talking about the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorvna’s reward for the safe return of the lost Princess Anastasia, even the altogether more…  _ artistic  _ types in Henry’s circle of friends. Henry himself had paid little attention to the buzz, besides feeling sorry for the elderly woman in question, who was clearly in denial about the certain deaths of most of her family.

The stakes were heightened when it was announced that the Dowager Empress had an important announcement to make, and she held a press conference at her luxurious apartment. Everyone thought that she was about to reveal that Anastasia had been found, but instead, she simply stated that she was calling off the search for her granddaughter and would be donating the reward money to various charities. It was all anyone talked about for weeks afterward, but Henry had simply shrugged and continued with his work.

Now, however, the puzzle pieces had slotted together in his brain. For whatever reason, Anya (or rather, Anastasia) had given up her claim to fame and fortune and was now living an ordinary life in New York City. Henry couldn’t be sure of her reasons, but he suspected it had something to do with Dmitry.

Regardless, he decided, it didn’t matter. She would keep his secret, and he would keep hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tours of duty in Vietnam lasted exactly 365 days. Many soldiers had small calendars where they would mark off how many days they had left before they could go home.
> 
> There are just a few chapters of this left, and while I know myself better than to guarantee when they will be released, I will say that I hope to have this finished relatively soon. In the meantime, feel free to tell me what you thought of this chapter! I appreciate everyone's comments and kudos on my stories more than I can say.

**Author's Note:**

> Although Anastasia the musical is heavily fictionalized, the real-life Anastasia Romanov spoke French, Russian, and English fluently.
> 
> I hope people enjoy this! Please leave a comment and/or kudos, and let me know what you thought! The chapters of this are a little bit shorter, owing to the nature of the story itself, but I hope to have a new one posted every day until the story is finished. Thank you for reading!


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